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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/26412100">Ghost</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/goldenboy_gav/pseuds/goldenboy_gav'>goldenboy_gav</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter RPF</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>(thats about the best way to phrase this fic im so sorry), Angst with a Happy Ending, Fake AH Crew, First Dates, M/M</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-09-11</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-09-11</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 12:27:02</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>5,606</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/26412100</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/goldenboy_gav/pseuds/goldenboy_gav</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Gavin thought he had found his home in Heathrow, in a small apartment with one man who he thought would never let him down. Instead, he had found sadness in the cracks in the road, a bleakness in the bus windows and the feeling of being caged. He was choking on his own depression with no one there to rescue him. </p><p>or </p><p>Ghosts of the past are not forever.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Gavin Free/Michael Jones</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>28</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Ghost</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>It’s hard to feel free when everything around you is falling. The way the night falls every day and the routine never stops -  it’s enough to make you claustrophobic. The buses pass each day, driving down the same dull roads and past the same buildings they always had. The planes fly over at the same time, each one a blur of light amongst the stars that never fades.</p><p>Gavin felt like he had been outside the airport for days, watching as other people fade from his sight into the sky. The metal benches were cold to the touch, the tea he had bought from inside never felt like enough to get him warm. Every day was the same, waking up in the same bed next to the same person, walking to the same bus to take the same tube to the same job. 3 years of his life felt washed away when he noticed how everything felt like deja vu, all his conversations matched the ones from the day before and he thought his brain was about to turn to rot. </p><p>Life was made worse though when Gavin realised he hadn’t had any other feelings in those 3 years he’d been bumbling his way through his routine. Every day felt as cold and lonely as the last, walking home to his apartment building never created the same thrill as it had before, when he noticed that walking through the door was never going to give him the warmth it once had, the man he was supposed to dedicate his life to often left his day worse. His apartment had been cold for years, with the only other person in it a man who seemed to dedicate his life to ignoring every single thing Gavin had ever done. He didn’t care for Gavin’s presence in any capacity now, only the TV that hummed through the thin walls and the sofa they needed to replace at some point. </p><p>Gavin reminisced often on his way home, in the way that Marcus used to brush his hair with his fingers, how when they wrapped around each other in the night time there was this kindling that lit inside him, a peace and security that Gavin had found hard to find no matter where he’d been. In the beginning every morning felt like a breath of fresh air, not another day of misery. Life had warped around him, the way he walked the streets had changed with no real reason and the way he used to speak had left, he felt dull, a flat tone and no reason to want to change that. </p><p>Gavin thought he had found his home in Heathrow, in a small apartment with one man who he thought would never let him down. Instead, he had found sadness in the cracks in the road, a bleakness in the bus windows and the feeling of being caged. He was choking on his own depression with no one there to rescue him. </p><p>-- -- -- </p><p>It was weird how close the end felt, when Gavin noticed on his nightly plane watches that he’d go home and enter another empty bed, wake up to an absent mind and just have to continue with his day. </p><p>He felt like it plagued his mind even when he was working, staring at a computer screen between meetings meant his brain never was truly focused, even when top clients were sitting in the middle of the boardroom, even when people around him spoke about things he needed to listen to, he couldn’t take his mind off the fact that he felt like everything was coming to an end. The stares he got from his boss, the absence of Marcus, everything was falling and he wanted to feel like it wasn’t happening. He wanted to leave this place that had given him nothing but harmful memories. </p><p>He liked staring at the planes and seeing the ones that would disappear to the US, a country that felt so far away in his mind, where he had once known some people there and then never heard from them again. He remembered a man with a ridiculous moustache that spoke in only dick jokes, a man who had tried his best to make Gavin smile whenever their companies would interact. A man who hadn’t been in Gavin’s memories for what felt like decades, Geoff Ramsey. Gavin didn’t know much about Geoff, he remembers him fondly all the same. He would blabber on about this woman called Jack, her amazingness and her beauty. He would talk about some other friends he had made, not much, but sometimes he’d let a name slip and laugh at a ridiculous memory.</p><p>Gavin remembered a warmth around Geoff, where everything around him had felt like cold concrete, Geoff had been some sunlight. Gavin often wonders what happened to Geoff, he remembers the name Los Santos, the mentions of a penthouse and other little details that had just slipped when they talked. </p><p>Gavin wondered what it was like there, sunny California, in a city that basked in heat and seemed to be filled with never ending excitement, at least the way Geoff spoke about it. These thoughts didn’t stop until Gavin entered his apartment, the smell of cigarettes hit him when he walked through the door, clung to the walls and nearly made him choke. Marcus looked dead in front of the TV, a line of drool hanging from the corner of his mouth while the news permeated the apartment with all the horrors of the world. </p><p>For once though, Gavin wasn’t focused on how depressing everything in there felt. He wasn’t focused on his mentally checked-out boyfriend or the mess that seemed to greet him no matter where he turned. He was smiling, it was unfamiliar. He was smiling at the thought of leaving, fleeing the shitty borough, leaving his life behind and going to the US, even just for a break. He wanted to leave, wanted to see Geoff, wanted to meet the people who spoke about so fondly and seemed to make his eyes sparkle in admiration. </p><p>Gavin was smiling for once, smiling at the thought of being able to ditch a life that treated him like he was unwanted. </p><p>-- -- -- </p><p>Los Santos was different to England in many ways, the people smiled at him and the sun never seemed to end. The clouds in the sky hung in the background, blossoms of white that only patched the blue instead of seeming to coat it like they did at home. Gavin left the plane feeling slightly sticky from the sheer amount of heat that seemed to surround his every move. His bag felt lighter than it had when he’d boarded, his walk felt bouncier than it had in years. He knew he wasn’t smiling, he wasn’t sure when he would, but it was a start. </p><p>It felt like morphine had entered his system with the way everything seemed to melt away from him, he walked through customs like he had just had the best trip of his life. There was this feeling of indestructibility when he reached outside the airport - this feeling that nothing and no one would ever be able to reach him, make him feel the way that Heathrow had made him. He knew there was still misery in him but now, now life felt fresh and new and something completely indescribable. </p><p>It wasn’t until he reached the taxi that Gavin realised he didn’t have a plan. He had barely a few hundred dollars in his wallet, the items of clothes he had bothered to pack and the visa that he had hurriedly applied for the week before he left. He had slipped away from a life he knew, the routines and the emotions into uncharted territory. He didn’t have a job, a place to stay, or even a way to contact Geoff. </p><p>He paused as he reached for the taxi door, wondering if this is what he wanted. How bad was his old life? He could go back, couldn’t he? He felt himself shake his head at the thought of the second option, physically repulsed at the idea of him admitting defeat. </p><p>With that in his head, he opened the door, trying to hold onto a life he didn’t know he would be accepted into. </p><p>-- -- -- </p><p>Crime in Los Santos was an issue, Gavin noticed. When he’d applied for his job as a casino floor worker he had expected to be in that job for years until he could see a slight increase in his pay, but barely a few months later he had become a floor manager after the last one had quit. </p><p>It was weird having an employer that wanted him to stay, who bumped his pay when he took on new roles. He knew deep down it wasn’t because he was worth that much, they just needed someone around who wouldn’t leave when everything went south. All their old managers had resigned when a heist happened, when the robbers would burst in in broad daylight and cause everyone to drop to the floor in fear. There was nothing they could do to stop people breaking in, they were living in the crime capital of the world with no way to secure their money. </p><p>Gavin had thought he’d never witness a casino heist in his life, it had always seemed like such a Vinewood concept, too cinematic, too dramatic, too cliche to ever happen in real life. </p><p>They were always in the films he grew up with, these over the top masks and huge guns that seemed to fill the screen, the bullets flying in slow motion as they tried to get control of everyone. Heists had always seemed like such an unrealistic concept when Gavin was growing up, so out of reach from anything he would ever experience. </p><p>Well, at least he’d thought until then. </p><p>-- -- -- </p><p>Geoff Ramsey was used to heists. He liked the feeling of his boots on the tile floor as he paced, liked the way the people fell down in front of him. It was routine now, seeing Michael yell, hearing screams in the background while the rest of them talk over comms. </p><p>He liked pacing, stepping over people to double check no one had called the police yet, scaring them slightly while he heard the others rushing in the background. His favourite ones were the ones that looked bored, that slumped down on the floor like this was only a minor inconvenience at best. It showed Geoff who here was more likely to act, the Los Santos residents were more likely to do nothing than something, they knew who served the city, they knew it would never be the LSPD too. </p><p>Geoff didn’t stop walking, making his way over to a small out of the way desk covered in pamphlets. He looked over, making sure to see no one was hiding there until he spotted a patch of blonde in the corner. A man, definitely Michael’s age. </p><p>Just as Geoff was about to point his gun at him, the man turned around. Small blonde stubble coated his chin but the most striking thing were the emeralds that sat in his eyes. Eyes he didn’t think he could forget if he wanted to. An old colleague who had wormed his way into Geoff’s heart and lived there ever since. </p><p>“Gavvers?” Geoff asked. </p><p>“Uh, hi Geoff,” He smiled. He seemed awkward, although the floor of a casino during a robbery is arguably one of the worst places to reunite with anyone. </p><p>“Do you have a pen and paper right now?” He was strapped for time, Jeremy and Fredo were already yelling into comms about nearly cleaning out the vault, Jack was telling them to hurry up before sirens started.</p><p>Gavin reached up with a scrap of paper and a pen. Geoff scribbled as fast as he could, making sure the numbers were readable before he could retreat back to Michael and leave. The crowd were still complicit, mostly because of Michael’s willingness to put a gun to anyone who dared disturb the peace. Geoff nodded to Gavin, sliding the paper over as Fredo yelled for everyone to get out. Within 10 seconds, they were all gone and all Gavin had to show they had ever been was the paper scrunched in his hand. </p><p>-- -- -- </p><p>At first, the message had given Gavin anxiety. </p><p>
  <em> Text me dickhead, I can get you out of there.  </em>
</p><p>It seemed hostile, Gavin hadn’t talked to Geoff in what felt like a century and now Geoff was here offering Gavin an out. Gavin wondered if Geoff felt like he was obligated to, Gavin had done Geoff some huge business favours in the past and Gavin wondered if this was Geoff trying to repay the debt</p><p>His first text to Geoff had been simple, just a hi with a smiley face. He had used them all the time when Geoff and him would talk on Skype, his boss frowned upon how casual he had been with his clients and would always write him up for it when he noticed Gavin being unprofessional when talking to others. </p><p>Gavin had never been able to talk to Geoff seriously, the man had forever been a living dick joke, he was crude and loud and everything that Gavin had ever found entertaining. It was hard to take Geoff seriously when he couldn’t even take himself seriously. </p><p>It had always been like this, Gavin messaging something silly, waiting 5 hours for a reply and getting something equally as stupid in return. This time though, this time Gavin was nervous about what Geoff would say to him, about the questions he would ask, about everything. </p><p>It didn’t help that when Geoff had replied, all he saw were two words. <em> Call me </em>. </p><p>-- -- -- </p><p>Gavin had liked the apartment Geoff had holed him up in, the walls were thick enough to keep away the sounds of his neighbours, the floor didn’t creak and there wasn’t anything visibly wrong with it. </p><p>When Gavin had first seen it he had been shocked, not only that Geoff was willing to let him live in his old apartment but also that he was willing to let him live somewhere so nice for free. It had felt wrong sitting around all day with no job and no one to talk to without the fear of losing anything he had, he didn’t like that he was essentially squatting and unable to do anything since Geoff wouldn’t let him. </p><p>It had taken weeks of whining to Geoff to even get a semblance of a job from him, it was all paperwork. It felt like Geoff had just wanted him to stay in the apartment all day, almost like he was trying to keep Gavin hidden away from the horrors that lay around in Los Santos, like he wasn’t one of the ones he wasn’t trying to protect Gavin from. </p><p>It had been nice at first, having a responsibility, not feeling like a freeloader and knowing he was helping in some way. But then the days drew on and the work he was doing seemed to just repeat on and on. It was all invoices that were being checked against receipts, names and places, checking spreadsheets. It reminded him of before, when he was in the office back in miserable Heathrow, it was all he’d ever done in those days, data and talking all day until he could wander into a flat that was silent. It had made his chest heavy to think about, how he lived so routinely and had never done anything that made him happy. </p><p>That was when Gavin noticed he was doing it again, he was building up routines and surrounding himself with things that were inconsequential. The memory of home felt like it was through a grey lens, making everything feel so much more cold yet the presence of Los Santos didn’t seem to be that different. </p><p>-- -- --</p><p>He had broken the pattern with a pub visit, they were hard to find in the city, most of the alcohol being served in bars and clubs but that wasn’t what Gavin wanted. He needed something that felt familiar, where the tables were too sticky to lean your elbows on and a pint wouldn’t run you more than a few dollars. It hadn’t felt like a lot to search for, somewhere where he could just sit down and drink until he felt warm. </p><p>He had ended up at a hole in the wall, where the lights were dim and the booths hadn’t been refurbished since the 70s. The atmosphere he needed, just somewhere he could exist with a pint and not be disturbed too much by the people around him. He knew the bar wouldn’t have much in the way of what he drank, maybe Carling or Fosters if he was lucky but he would make do, because that’s what he seemed to do nowadays. </p><p>He made his way to a corner booth, where he could tuck himself away from everyone else and just mess about on his phone while people played pool and darts around him. He knew he looked weird being in a bar alone, maybe even looked like an alchy, but he needed it, needed a drink that he could enjoy in peace and that would maybe wash away the feeling that had been haunting him since Geoff had managed to put him up somewhere. He kept asking, was it worth it? </p><p>-- -- -- </p><p>Michael didn’t know much about drinking, he knew what he liked, he knew where to go and he knew to keep himself out of the spotlight as much as possible. He didn’t know bar etiquette, he didn’t know how to pour, he didn’t know anything outside of what was absolutely necessary. </p><p>So when he walked into the small bar in the city it was no surprise that his eyes landed on the pretty thing huddled in the corner and no surprise when he grabbed a drink and wanted to start up a conversation. Michael wouldn’t know that this wasn’t the place for this or that most people alone in these spaces weren’t there to make a friend. All Michael had known was there was a blonde in the corner with a burning hot smile and a draw that he’d never experienced before. </p><p>Gavin didn’t know why he was being stared at, most of the time it would make him feel uneasy but this time he just felt uncertain. He didn’t feel sick to his stomach like some of the casino patrons had or confident like he would at a bar. He sat in the middle, perfectly undecided on how he would feel if someone spoke to him right now. </p><p>He didn’t have much say in it anyway, the lad had decided to walk over without a care in the world. He didn’t notice that Gavin didn’t even have his jacket off yet or that the beer had barely been touched, he only looked at Gavin’s face and sported the cheekiest grin he could muster. </p><p>The first meeting had been endearing, thrilling. They talked for what felt like minutes but suddenly there was no light coming from outside and Gavin had 12 texts from Geoff asking him where he was. He knew better than to keep Geoff waiting for longer than he had already, especially since he knew Geoff could see he read the messages.  </p><p>So Gavin tried to end the conversation, kept trying to remove himself but couldn’t stop being pulled back in with awful jokes and eyes that looked at him like he was gold. He doesn’t know when they officially stepped away, when all that was left between them was the dregs in the bottom of their beer glasses and the echoes of laughter in the air. </p><p>They parted outside, the moon high in the sky and the noises that surrounded Los Santos alive in their ears. There were screeching tyres and police sirens that shrouded their voices, people yelling and gunshots that almost sounded like fireworks that ringed in their heads. </p><p>When they left, Michael turned around and reached into his pocket, a slip of paper clung to the back of his phone and he sighed thinking one of the crew had been screwing with his jacket. When he looked though, he was glad he’d checked before throwing it. </p><p>The note had been simple, a request and a number. Two things Michael had never expected to end the day with. A smile filled his face as he wandered the blocks back to the penthouse. The only thing playing on his mind was the message he’d been given. </p><p>“Let’s meet again :)” </p><p>-- -- -- </p><p>The first texts had been awkward before they spiralled out of control, little introductions and conversation starters that had twisted into hypotheticals that left Gavin with laughter trapped in his throat and tears rolling down his face. He proposed stupid ideas that would lead to all caps texts coming through for the next 10 minutes, there was something infinitely entertaining in how Michael would spam and scream and call Gavin so many names over his dumb questions he’d never had the chance to share with anyone. </p><p>He was even more entertained when Michael started returning his own questions, asking Gavin so many questions about his life and where he came from he struggled to keep up the explanations without making the conversation turn sour. Michael hadn’t noticed, so focused on prodding and prying and investigating every aspect of Gavin’s life he could think of, he didn’t notice when Gavin would reply vaguely to questions about where he used to live or why he came over here, he just knew that Gavin was talking and that was the important part to him, Gavin was interested and that was all he could have asked for. </p><p>Michael smirked when he asked his own hypothetical, tired of spamming Gavin with interrogations and finding out most things about him, things that he had needed to know like his favourite sandwich filling and what style of clothes he likes wearing the most, the absolute essentials for any successful relationship. So when he got bored of trying to find increasingly necessary things to ask, Michael turned to the questions that Gavin had used to open the conversation. </p><p>He couldn’t stop the near teenage giggle that escaped him as he typed, causing Geoff to peak at him from where he was sat on the sofa, Geoff asked what was going on, not wanting to be forceful but he did not like when his crew kept secrets from him. </p><p>“I asked a guy on a date,” Michael smiled, seeing Gavin’s spam of 'yes' light up his phone screen, one of those small things that made him grin harder. “Is that Italian up the road still open?” </p><p>“Yeah, think so.” Geoff said as he turned back to the TV, not trying to concern himself with the lovelife of someone else until he absolutely had to. He just hoped for his own sake that the date was good.</p><p>-- -- -- </p><p>“You don’t understand Geoff, he asked me out in the stupidest way possible!” Gavin screamed down the phone, causing Geoff to pull it away from his ear. He could hear Gavin’s tiny cackles follow his speech, a sound he felt like he hadn’t heard in forever. </p><p>“Go on?” Geoff asked. If Gavin was calling it stupid he knew it would be ridiculous, that kid would see a marshmallow tree and just dub it as being the same as any other weekday. </p><p>“He used one of my own bloody questions against me!” Gavin screeched, his voice raised several octaves when he spoke, he was all bubbly today and Geoff had never felt older in his life. </p><p>“You going anywhere good?” Geoff asked, moving up from his seat to stretch his legs. It felt like he’d been on the phone forever, he may have mummified by the time Gavin hung up. </p><p>“This Italian place downtown, it looked nice in the pictures he sent me,” Gavin swooned. Geoff felt the urge to sit back down straight away, he knew it could be a coincidence, especially when that’s about the only upscale place left in the city anymore but he felt like he knew exactly who was about to take Gavin on a date. </p><p>“Gav, I gotta ring you back,” Geoff said. He could hear Gavin protesting as he hung up but he needed to breathe. </p><p>He didn’t know if he could handle both of them. </p><p>-- -- --- </p><p>Gavin hadn’t felt nervous, shocking as that was. He had let Michael into his apartment and cooed over the flowers that Michael had bought him, the conversation had never seemed to falter as they walked to the restaurant and the feelings that hung in the air between them hadn’t left room for him to overthink. </p><p>By the time they reached the restaurant Gavin didn’t know if his face was warm from the Los Santos sun or from the giggling that he hadn’t been able to stop. Michael was in a similar situation to him, when they reached he was ever so slightly breathless with a pink tinting his cheeks. </p><p>The dinner had felt even better than the walk, they’d been absolutely ridiculous the whole time, chatter that faded away into mouthfuls of food and shared looks devolved further to loud laughter and competitions. Michael betting Gavin he wouldn’t eat a slice of 5 layer chocolate cake, Gavin betting Michael he wouldn’t be able to catch any meatballs in his life. When they left their faces were caked in sauce, stomachs full with a mix of pasta and butterflies. When the night air hit their faces, Gavin realised he was smiling in a way he never had before. </p><p>They wandered the streets, Michael taking Gavin the long way around, not wanting the date to end. They wandered in and out of alleyways, not even noticing when their legs got weak from walking or when their breath got too heavy for them to even make out what the other said. They were wrapped up in their own world, a world that they would've been content to exist in forever. </p><p>The moment was ruined though, as most often are. Gavin’s mobile wouldn’t stop ringing, a persistent tone that was ruining his evening. He was half scared it was Geoff making sure he was home and hadn’t been kidnapped, after all he’d promised to text him at some point in the night with an update. </p><p>It hadn’t been though, Geoff’s yelling down the phone about his concern would’ve been considered honey to his ears instead of what else came through. Yelling, drunken yelling, the most words Gavin had ever heard Marcus say to him in his life. It jumbled together, threat after threat spilling out his speakers, loud enough for Michael to hear even when it wasn’t on speaker. He felt himself freeze, he hadn’t expected to hear from him ever again, had expected him to move on from their life - a life he had never cared about. </p><p>The yelling had him losing himself in his mind, why could he never escape his bad ideas, why could he never escape the things that had caused him pain. He had run away across the world to escape the horrors that had addled his brain, he had packed and left in a vain attempt to restart, be a new person, never again see the world in greyscale like he had for so long. </p><p>Michael caught on to what was happening before Gavin could even get an explanation out, prying the phone from his grip and immediately yelling down the line, a long stream of insults that only he would’ve been able to say without stumbling, a passionate ramble that ended with a heavily punctuated “motherfucker” tacked onto the end before he hung up. It would almost be impressive if Gavin didn’t feel like he had just been hit by a ton of something. </p><p>He wanted to be back in the headspace he’d been in a few seconds ago, where it felt like all his brain could produce is sunshine and the wind seemed to carry him and Michael through wherever they were going. Now he didn’t even feel like making another step. All he could do is stare, he didn’t even know what he was looking at, only knew that his mind would barely let him snap out of it. </p><p>Michael noticed. He'd been watching Gavin all evening and the switch between the smile to his eyes and the barely there stare was astounding to witness. He knew he couldn’t just leave Gavin alone, didn’t want to after seeing him near enough shutdown in a matter of seconds. </p><p>He tugged on Gavin’s arm as hard as he could to get his attention. He smiled when he saw Gavin’s face rise slightly and tried to think of what he could do without being intrusive. With a mini light bulb moment and a slight smirk, Michael grabbed Gavin’s hand and pulled off in the direction opposite to the apartment.</p><p>-- -- -- </p><p>The penthouse wasn’t far away, not as far as Michael had initially thought. He tugged Gavin towards the place he called home, resisting the urge to smile at the way their fingers had intertwined at some point during their walk. </p><p>The large apartment building loomed in front of them, Michael squeezed Gavin’s hand lightly as they walked inside. He still hadn’t totally left the blank stare behind but now he was responding, he’d squeeze Michael’s hand in return and mutter in response to Michael’s questions. It was better than nothing. </p><p>-- -- -- </p><p>The penthouse elevator didn’t take as long as Michael wanted, he was nervous to bring back someone he barely knew but he knew Gavin needed it. He needed someone like Jeremy who he could convince to do dumb stunts for no pay, someone like Jack who spoke with sweetness, someone like Trevor who would lay down on the sofa with you in the early hours of the day just to make sure you were okay, someone like Geoff who would never show affection properly but was trying this hardest. He needed what he had, and that was the best he could’ve done. </p><p>The doors felt like they took an age to open in comparison to the short elevator ride, they opened into absolute chaos. Jeremy stood at one end of the room, gun trained strictly at the floor. Jack sat on the breakfast bar, kitchen towel in hand while her eyes darted everywhere. Fredo and Geoff stood tucked away in the corridor, suppressing giggles as far he could tell. </p><p>“What’s going on?” Michael asked, stepping out with Gavin not far behind him. He could feel Gavin, he was almost pressed against him but it still didn’t quite feel close enough. </p><p>“Spider,” Jeremy responded, Geoff cackled in the background like this was the stupidest thing that had ever happened in that room. </p><p>“Well, uhm, we have company,” Michael replied. He just needed the weapons put away, he didn’t need Gavin to know about the high profile crime just yet. </p><p>“I’m Gavin,” He spoke flatly, a bit more life than his words before. </p><p>Before any more introductions could be made, Geoff barrelled into the room yelling about how Gavin was in so much trouble. </p><p>The realisation that Gavin already knew about his lifestyle from Geoff filled Michael with both dread and relief, but if he knew Geoff, hopefully he’d stick around with Michael too. </p><p>“Gavvers, you okay?” Geoff asked. </p><p>Michael shook his head before Gavin could bullshit him, Geoff nodded in response and made a motion to Jack that she seemed to pick up on. Michael knew that this was going to turn into a long night of explanations and feelings. </p><p>-- -- -- </p><p>When Michael and Gavin spoke about their first date, they normally left out the end of the night, they left out how Geoff hugged Gavin tightly in a way the crew had never seen him comfort anyone, they left out how Michael responded to the phone call, whenever they talked about it they left out Marcus altogether. The name still made Gavin stop sometimes, made him temporarily zone out until Michael kissed the emptiness away. </p><p>Michael still thought sometimes about that day, for reasons he couldn’t quite understand. Today though, today he didn’t care about that date, didn’t care about anything but the engagement ring that was still on Gavin’s finger. Last night they’d returned to that Italian, gorged themselves until Michael could barely think right and popped the question before Gavin fell asleep from the carbohydrate overload. It had felt fantastic dragging Gavin back to the penthouse, all rosy cheeked and giggling and Gavin basically not being able to stop repeating how Michael was going to “proper marry him.” </p><p>Michael was brought away from his thoughts by Gavin groaning and flipping over, positioning himself in such a way that a crack of sunlight from their bedroom window draped over his chest. Gavin made another pained noise as he decided to sit up. </p><p>“Micoo, can you get me some coffee?” He asked with a tired smile and the best pleading eyes he could do. </p><p>“Good morning to you too,” Michael chuckled, letting his eyes fall on Gavin’s tired eyes once more before he got out of bed. </p><p>He took one last look at his bed before he left the room, seeing how the sunlight had seemed to set into Gavin’s hair. It was a sight to see, and a sight that he cherished. A memory that settled behind his eyelids when he shut the door. </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Hi, sorry I've not been posting much recently I had a bunch of work chucked at me to do over Summer and now I'm back in college! </p><p>All kudos and comments are so appreciated, the love my fics are still getting is amazing to see and I thank you all so much for it.</p></blockquote></div></div>
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